


Rainy Recoil

by Seer_of_Soul



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! VRAINS
Genre: (that’s a tag?), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, First Kiss, Gift Fic, M/M, Post-Canon, Wet Clothing, collage AU, hope ya like it frien, kabedon, my ending now - canon can be quiet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-29
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-03-14 16:07:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29048907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seer_of_Soul/pseuds/Seer_of_Soul
Summary: The apartment is quiet. The sound of rain against the window is soothing. Ryoken is enjoying the moment after finishing his latest project. The moment is relaxing.Then Homura comes home.Apparently he forgot his umbrella.
Relationships: Homura Takeru/Revolver | Kougami Ryouken
Comments: 4
Kudos: 11





	Rainy Recoil

**Author's Note:**

> A lil gift for frien Sugar! Would def write 2k for you. ;p
> 
> Also, hello everyone else!

It was raining. About fifteen minutes ago, the clouds overhead had finally given in and started pouring, turning the world outside dark. The sound of rain hitting the roof and running down through the drainpipe was soothing, a gentle background noise.

So, Ryoken made himself a cup of tea. He happily tucked himself into the arm chair closest to the window to watch the rain pour down. He took a sip of his tea, already feeling the stress he’d built up over the past few weeks slowly fade away. He had nothing left that he had to do. All his projects had been finalized, thoroughly edited and reviewed by at least three people each, and submitted. So, Ryoken took this chance to breathe and to relax. He closed his eyes, letting the sound of the rain consume him.

Their apartment was nice, really more of a penthouse, with private bedrooms for all its occupants. It was definitely not quite what he’d been used to growing up, but it was within walking distance of the Den City University, which was the important part. It was maybe a bit cramped with four people, two SOLtis laden AI that refused to live elsewhere, and two more AI that came and went as the mood suited them. But the apartment was definitely preferable to that stupid /boat/. 

Ryoken had gotten accustomed to the chaos and noise, somehow. Ever since he’d met Yusaku again, he’d been pulled along, dragged off his charted course and flung into uncharted waters. Yusaku was a storm, or maybe he was the eye of it and Ai was the winds that swirled around him, pulling others in. It had swept him up, dragging him along until he learned to ride its winds. And maybe that was a bit too poetic, but that was what it’d felt like. Either way, Yusaku and the storm that surrounded him were something Ryoken never could have accounted for. 

And then there was Homura…. 

They’d collided in the midst of Yusaku’s storm, somehow managed to connect and hang on long enough to drag each other off course. And hadn’t that been an experience. Ryoken had always thought it would have been Yusaku to save him, but in reality, it had been Homura who had dragged him that last leg. It’d been Homura, actually, who had bugged him about not having a college degree in the first place, which had been what kicked off the apartment arrangement. 

Unsurprisingly, Yusaku and Ryoken had both gone for tech degrees, focusing both on programing and program engineering. They were in the same classes, or else in different timeslots for the same class. Word of their rivalry, at least when it came to programming, had spread like wildfire shortly after the first project in their first semester. Neither Ryoken nor Yusaku knew exactly who had started it, but both of them had a suspect list that almost exclusively consisted of their roommates. 

Specter had followed his calling and gotten a botany certificate, which he seemed rather pleased with. Ai and Flame had both started taking online classes, mostly for fun, partly to feel included. Homura, meanwhile, had no idea what degree he wanted, but he’d gotten every physical education and martial arts professor begging on their knees for him to become their TA. Currently Homura was TA for six classes while taking precisely none himself. 

Ryoken couldn’t say that he’d seen this life anywhere in the realm of possibility for him. He had never, never in any thought he’d allowed himself to acknowledge, thought he’d end up in a life like this. Ryoken had never thought that he would end up here, in this wonderful chaotic storm of a life, in a crowded apartment, and with this path laid out before him, constructed by the people he’d let into his life. It was… it was nice. 

The low roll of distant thunder made Ryoken open his eyes, the lethargic feeling of the rainy day making his eyelids heavy and his movements slow. Looking out the window, he saw the streetlights had turned on, casting glowing puddles of light across the pavement, and flashes of dancing light that flashed off the rain drops. 

The sound of a key sliding into the lock of the front door caught his attention. Ryoken took a sip of his tea, now pleasantly warm. Going by the timing, it was probably Homura. Yusaku had planned on studying until six in the library with Ai with Flame acting as self-proclaimed chaperone, and Specter had gone out for some alone time away from the rest of them. 

“It’s fucking raining-,” Homura grumbled as he pushed the door open and kicked off his shoes. 

Ryoken turned, his mouth opening for a teasing greeting, only choke on it as something hot and heavy slammed into his gut.

Homura stood in the entryway, soaking wet to the point where he was dripping over the welcome mat. He let out a frustrated sigh as he pushed his wet hair out of his face with one hand, several strands of his peppermint hair still clinging to his forehead. There was a disgruntled pout on his lips, which only grew as he toed off his soaked through socks. But the most striking thing, the thing that Ryoken just couldn’t peel his eyes away from, was the suddenly very see-through white shirt stuck to his /abs/. The shirt hid /nothing/, and clung to him almost like a second skin. 

“Of course this happened the day the Judo class wanted to practice outside,” Homura was saying. Ryoken somehow managed to drag his eyes up to Homura’s face a moment before he looked up. “Well don’t you look all cozy over there, with your tea and your comfy chair….”

Ryoken pressed his lips together, trying to school his expression, probably to limited success. He forced himself to take a drink before he answered, just to make sure his voice would work. “There’s still some hot water in the kettle, if you want something to warm you up….” 

“Great!” Homura’s cheerful grin flashed across his face, “Uh- though I should probably get out of these first.” He pulled at his shirt, peeling it off his abs. 

Ryoken swallowed thickly, feeling like this was simultaneously the worst and best thing that could have come from today. “Right. You should do that.” 

Homura blinked, one eyebrow creeping up towards his hairline. “Uh huh.”

Ryoken suddenly felt the need to flee. That was an instinct he had never denied, even to his own detriment. He stood up and swiftly fled, abandoning his tea in the process. He was aiming for his bedroom, somewhere he could disappear into to /process/ this. 

But he never made it. 

Ryoken blinked and suddenly his back was colliding with the wall of the hallway. Homura stood over him, fire blazing in his eyes. Both of his hands were planted against the wall, on either side of Ryoken, boxing him in. “What’s wrong?” Homura asked, sounding surprisingly protective. “Why are you running away?” 

“I’m n-,” he almost lied. But, he just couldn’t. Not when he was looking up into Homura’s eyes, the steely grey-blue that seemed to burn ever brighter than Soulburner’s brilliant yellow. Ryoken looked away with a scowl. He refused to let his eyes so much as flick towards the wet shirt clinging to Homura’s chest. 

“Wait-,” Homura stuttered, “Is- is it me?”

“What ever gave you that idea?” Ryoken muttered, not looking away from the spot on the wall he’d chosen to glare at. Ryoken mentally smacked his own forehead. Okay- that was stupid. Even as he said it, he knew it was stupid. 

“Why are you running away from me?” Homura pressed, his voice an odd mixture of gentle and firm. “Revolver…. Was it something I said?” He always called him ‘Revolver’, didn’t he? Homura pressed closer. Ryoken moved on impulse, his head snapping around as his hands flew up to press against Homura’s chest- his chest that was covered in a very thin, not at all concealing soaking wet shirt. 

Ryoken could feel Homura’s body heat through his shirt. He felt his warmth, his heat. Ryoken froze, eyes going wide. He would forever deny the heat that might have rose to his face. Homura’s expression mirrored his own, eyes wide with surprise and… curiosity? 

“I-,” Ryoken choked. He felt something constricting in his throat, some kind of deeply rooted insecurity that screamed at him that he didn’t deserve this. Ryoken looked away, going back to that spot on the wall, with a harder glare this time. His hands were still pressed against Homura’s chest, though they weren’t really holding him back anymore. He was… so warm.

“Revolver…,” Homura chided, pressing forward against his hands, testing their give. “Do… do you… like me? Like- do you /like/ me?”

“I’ve said nothing of the sort.” Ryoken squared his shoulders, looking up at him with a fire in his own eyes. He had to shut this down. He didn’t deserve this.

But he’d never been able to slip out of that storm. And it was kicking up higher than ever.

Homura’s eyes slowly widened at he stared into Ryoken’s eyes, like somehow he could see past every carefully constructed wall and mask that Ryoken had built around himself. Ryoken was very sure that he hadn’t fooled Homura for a moment. Since when had Homura gotten so good at reading him? It wasn’t fair. “You’re- imagining things, Homura….” 

“That’s really annoying you know…,” Homura said in a low voice, pressing his face in closer so their faces were just a few inches apart. Ryoken’s breath caught in his throat. “…that I’m the only one you don’t call by their first name.”

Ryoken swallowed thickly, feeling a shiver run up his spine as his mouth fell open. That was… unexpected. “Is it…?” he asked a little hesitantly. 

“It is.”

“Then-… shall I call you… ‘Takeru’…?” Homura’s gaze flickered brighter with some kind of burning fire the moment he said that. 

“Yes.” Homura pushed his face a little closer. Ryoken could feel his breath cross his lips. “Say it again.”

“Takeru….”

His gaze flickered a little darker. “Ryoken-,” he started breathlessly. And oh- that was something to hear. That might have been the first time that Homura- the first time that /Takeru/ had ever called him by his first name. But what came next was even more-…. “Ryoken, can I kiss you?”

The immediate response, “Yes.”

And then Takeru was kissing him. And it felt so nice….

Their lips mashed together, Takeru practically shoving him back against the wall, using his arms as leverage to /push/. Ryoken let him, eagerly taking everything he was given. His fingers curled against Takeru’s chest, feeling the muscles through his wet shirt. He could feel the strength behind them. 

Ryoken lost track of time, lost in the push of lips rolling against lips, of teeth barely scraping his bottom lip, of warmth that warmed him to the core far more than his tea ever could. 

Takeru pulled back after some time, panting heavily with a huge grin springing to his face. “I’ve been… wanting to do that… for the past three years…!” Takeru gasped between breaths, his eyes shining with a bright inner fire. 

“Oh- oh really?” Ryoken laughed softly. How long had he wanted to do that? Longer than that. “What took you so long?”

“Yeah?” Takeru snorted, “How long have you wanted to kiss me then?”

“Can’t remember,” Ryoken shrugged.

“Such an idiot,” Takeru laughed softly right before he kissed him again. His fists bunched in the lapels of Ryoken’s jacket, dragging him closer. Ryoken had to stand on his toes to kiss him fully. Before he realized, one of his hands had slipped down to hold Takeru’s waist. It felt… so nice.

This life he’d made, with his… friends, was… nice. Ryoken decided he liked it a lot. 

“I should change out of these wet clothes,” Takeru shivered.

“Probably.”

**Author's Note:**

> I can’t believe how embarrassed I got while writing this.  
> I just- Ai-  
> *puts face in hands*  
> I don't know why. I just did!
> 
> Anyways-! Thank yee for reading! Hope you enjoyed!


End file.
